Name
by sanibels
Summary: [Oneshot] Damien hadn't anticipated that he'd have to be a shoulder to cry on. First and foremost, he had not a clue what he could say that might serve as a form of comfort. But comfort, it seems, can sometimes come from the most seemingly insignificant things.


Needless to say, Damien had not expected that a simple gab session would have come around to Pip beginning to whimper. As the two sat on the demon's bed talking about nothing in particular, the conversation slowly shifted to their experiences at South Park Elementary, and then the black-haired boy felt nothing but utter terror as he watched his best friend's eyes begin to well up. Because Damien had exactly _zero _experience acting as a shoulder to cry on.

The blond suddenly threw his arms desperately around Damien, nuzzling his face into the noiret's chest, causing him to blush - but Pip failed to notice as the tears fell down his cheeks. He choked out a harsh sob. "I-I-I do-on't underst-stand-d; I was-s nothing b-but ki-ind to any of them-m-m, and yet th-they all hate-hated-ed me-e," he cried.

Damien didn't know how to respond beyond hesitantly rubbing Pip's back, in a rather uncertain attempt to comfort him. As the blond boy continued to bawl, he tightened his embrace on the demon, now despairingly hugging him as if his very life depended on it. Damien's face was still a shade of red that stood out against his otherwise pale features, but he tried to push through it as the realization slowly dawned on him how... bad he felt for Pip. Feeling bad for one of his peers wasn't something he ever thought he'd do. His peers were a bunch of damned jerks ...though, now that he thought about that claim again, he took note that Pip was anything but a jerk. Pip was sweet, and compassionate, even when everyone else was cruel to him. He was... loving. Pip was such a dear, loving soul. Again Damien's cheeks began to burn (in a metaphorical sense, that is), but this time he hardly noticed. Perhaps Pip's loving nature was why he was beginning to feel sympathy for the poor Brit.

Damien turned the situation over in his mind, trying to catch any detail that would allow him a better way to provide comfort; though he didn't realize that as the blond continued to whimper against his sweater, hugging him for dear life, Damien had subconsciously wrapped his arms fully around Pip in reciprocation. Pip, however, had taken _full _note of this, and took it as a cue to snuggle into Damien even more. As his crying started to subside, his cheeks bloomed.

It took the demon longer than he'd ever admit, but he finally properly connected the dots as to how similar his and Pip's situations and social statuses had been. He felt like an idiot — _of course_. That's why they became friends in the first place, for fuck's sake. Both of them were outcasts. Everyone had treated both of them like shit as soon as they'd shown up, despite neither of them having done anything right off the bat to garner this activity. This wasn't sympathy he was feeling. _Fuck, it was EMPATHY._ This cognizance was enough to snap Damien away from his zone-out, and as he softly shook his head, he was met with Pip's big, soft, wet, blue eyes peering up at him with an ocean-deep sense of longing. Damien couldn't help but notice that the blond's cheeks were just as rosy as his own. Opia overwhelmed him, and though he regretted it, he averted his glance.

Pip gazed downwards as Damien's eyes darted to his right, and sniffled quite marvelously. "My-my deepest apologies-ies, Dam-Damien," he croaked, voice still stammering from the crying, "I didn't me-ean to have su-such an out-outbu-urst. it's ju-ju-ust that," He drew in a deep breath, and spoke the next sentence very slowly and carefully, "Sometimes the actions of others really perplex me."

Pip turned his head slightly and rested his cheek against Damien's chest. The noiret still struggled to find something to say, but finally, he drew in meticulously through his nose, and attempted to speak. "Phillip, I... I'll be honest, I don't really know what to say to help. I'm not very good at... well, being nice, in general, but..." As he spoke, his eyes darted around his surroundings, trying to find anywhere to look that didn't feel confrontational. "I just- want it to be known... that I care about you a lot. We've been in each others' shoes; I know what it feels like to be so hated, and I'm sorry it tears you up so much. If it's any difference, you're like, the nicest person I've ever met." As he stopped speaking, a thick silence filled the air in the room, and the demon had felt Pip shift in his arms, but was too preoccupied staring straight forward into the void in an attempt to rid himself of all the red on his cheeks.

At last, Damien hesitantly looked down at Pip again, the blush on his face still burning like the fires of hell, and his gaze uncertain, and to his surprise, he was met with _a smile growing bigger and more genuine than he had ever seen on anyone_. Pip hadn't heard a _single word_ that Damien had said after the first word of his first sentence. The British boy's pupils dilated phenomenally, and he began almost to glow, his face radiating a soft pink as he squealed through a smile as wide as Saturn's rings, "You- _you called me by my first name_."

"I- what?" Damien stuttered. "_I poured my little black heart out and all you care about is what name I called you?!_"

Pip completely ignored Damien's tone, which he knew wasn't genuine. Deep down, he knew Damien was entirely aware of the implications associated with saying the Brit's full name, and that the demon was mortified that he had let it slip out. Hugging him tightly once more, the blond couldn't help but chirp, "Oh, Damien, you berk, I was right certain you enjoyed my company, I just _knew_ it!"

To the surprise of both of the boys, Damien responded with something _other_ than protest. He raised a hand and used it to scratch at the back of his neck, before letting his features melt into a sweet, reluctant - but genuine - smile. "You... make it hard not to," he chuffed, wrapping his arm back around the Brit.

Though he too kept his embrace gently around Damien, Pip finally pulled away from the hug and again looked his dear friend in the eyes. This time, the demon kept himself from looking away. Both of their smiles widened and their eyes softened as the color of roses illuminated their cheeks. Diffidently, Damien again took a hand from its position wrapped delicately around Pip's waist and used it to wipe a final stray tear from the blond's cheek. He couldn't help but giggle in response, and then the demon began to titter too, if anything just at the unbridled, dorky cuteness of Pip's own laugh; cheerful and bright and full of energy, with the occasional short snort. The two let go of eachother as they fell backwards onto Damien's bed, the both of them smiling bright as day and laughing raucously.

Pip attempted to speak through his hysterics, "Oh, good Lord, I- I suppose I was gutted over nothing!"

"Don't say that," replied the noiret as he caught his breath. "They were jerks to you. You're allowed to be upset about it."

"No, I mean-" Pip turned onto his side, gazing sweetly at his friend, "I mean I don't feel it matters anymore, the things they did or said. It doesn't matter to me anymore now that, at the very least, I know there's _someone_ out there who fancies me."

Damien had looked over to meet Pip's eyes, failing to shift his body, but now he quickly raised his hands over his face as yet again blood rushed to his cheeks. "Shut up," he muttered through a muted smile.

The Brit couldn't help but reply with a soft chuckle. "Believe it or not, you truly helped me to feel better, Damien. Thank you."

Slowly, the demon lowered his hands from covering his expression, though his blushing hadn't subsided. "You're-" He looked Pip in the eyes again, almost dumbfounded. "You're welcome." And then, Damien cracked a sharp-toothed smile, to which Pip responded with his own sweet, broken, missing-tooth grin.


End file.
